To be quite candid, free agency sucks. That is, unless your last name is Suh.

People constantly let you down. Teams assign a value to you as a player (and intrinsically as a person) and that price tag, for the time being, is what you, as a player, are “worth.”

Let’s be real, there’s nothing worse than people assigning a value to you, especially when that value doesn’t match up with what you know your value to be. I had a coach a few years ago who always said, “You are what you put on tape.” The mindset being that you need to have great practices and great games because they define who you are as a player.

I always hated and still to this day hate that statement. It’s like telling a student, “you’re only as smart as your SAT score” or an employee that they’re only as good as their most recent compilation of work done. I’m a believer that you are much more than what you put on tape. And you are much more than your last grade, assignment, or report.

See, there’s a problem with big contracts and the little ones too. The problem with the smaller ones is almost self-explanatory. Teams don’t value you as much as you may think they should. Talk about a shot to the ego. But the problems with the bigger contracts are often worse.

If getting a big contract in the NFL is your ultimate goal, two problems may arise. First, you may never get it. And second, you may get it, but let’s say your production dips a little bit. Now, all of a sudden, you’re no longer worth what that contract says you’re worth. Or your salary, or your social status or your job title, or your JOB.

I’m done believing that I “am what I put on tape” because what I put on tape fluctuates too much. Jobs change, titles change, Twitter followers change, whatever other irrelevant measuring stick changes too. They always do.

There’s gonna come a day when I no longer play in the NFL. If my worth is tied up in that temporary job, I’m hopeless. Instead, I’m choosing to put my hope in one person, the “author and finisher of my faith.” I’m putting my hope in the one who loves me even on my worst day, not just if I have a few good games. I’m putting my hope in the one who will look at me and say, “well done my good and faithful servant,” simply because I believed in him and allowed him to take the lead in my life. I’m putting my hope in a solid rock that never changes and never wavers. I’m putting my hope in Christ, and I would love for you to do the same.

On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground (including the NFL) is sinking sand. All other ground is sinking sand.